9.5 Things My Mother Would Never Do

I was driving down the road the other day eating a deep fried chicken leg from Kroger’s and thought to myself, “Hey, I could write a blog post titled ‘Things My Mother Would Never Do’.” Here is a quick little list I generated after examining my life for a markedly short period of time.

So that was number 1:

1. Eat a deep fried chicken leg while driving a car.

2. Hurry into the house and sneakily cut the biggest chicken breast in half to make the present 7 piece chicken meal an 8 again like the label said then go on to talk about how chintzy Kroger’s has become.

3. Lie to her husband when he says, “Hey Marth, what are you looking for? (First of all my dad has never called my mom “Marth” it’s just that my husband calls me “Sooz” and I thought that seemed more precise or something.) Then, instead of responding, “my toothbrush” say “your son’s backpack, he never keeps up with his things!” I mean, who…loses…their toothbrush?! Well I do, and too often. You see, I start at one sink in our house and end up at another and in between I harp and nag, move wet clothes to the dryer, or practice a multitude of other multitasking mad skills.

4. Find her toothbrush in the car.

5. While at a church covered dish dinner humbly reply, “Oh thanks, it was nothing really. I’ll get you the recipe.” After being told, “Susan, I just love this Asian chopped salad.”

(Of course I could never do this. I have an extremely guilty conscience and never lie unless I absolutely have to.)

6. Let her seven-year-old son prepare her covered dish for said covered dish dinner with minimal supervision. I did however supervise the hand-washing prior to. I’m somewhat of a hand washing supervisor I think. I smell, touch, and peek around corners to make sure that little squirts of soap aren’t simply being rubbed onto the hands to pass the smell test he was expecting.

7. Handle her four-year-old child’s complaining about not liking her hood by giving it a good jerk, “pop, pop, pop, pop, pop”, disconnecting it from her coat and slightly knocking the child off balance then say here put on your ________ hat. ( I’ll let you fill in the blank with the word that you are trying to only say in your head now that it is 2016)

(Please don’t offer to help Haley reattach her “hat” to her jacket. She hates hoods. Whatever, choose your battles, right?)

8. Consider each and every coffee mug in her home a travel mug. Then later realize that she’s the only parent kicked back in a chair at gymnastics on Saturday morning with her legs crossed holding a porcelain mug without a lid and sipping coffee like she’s on her living room couch.

(I have absolutely no emotional connection to the Steelers, I just consider this taking interest in my husband’s recreational activities as I once was told was important as a wife to do.)

9.5 Comfortably discuss at the dinner table the colorful sex education her 7-year-old son had received while riding the school bus earlier in the day. You see, she would have discussed this with us but not at the dinner table and most definitely very uncomfortably for all. Hence the .5

Hahahaha! I love this post. I actually just realized I’ve read several of your posts and did not know it was you. Well done and keep writing!
I would just like to say that all mugs are travel mugs. Seriously. If it holds coffee, then it goes with you, i.e. it travels. (FYI, I’ve been know to drop Bayles in my coffee at McDee’s with a play place on a desperate rainy day, so take my opinions with a grain of salt).
Also, I had the good fortune of spending a fair bit of time at your house in middle school when Laura and I were good friends, so I have some memories of your lovely mother. For some reason your post reminded me specifically of the time Laura and I walked in and your mom had just made chocolate chip cookies for a church function. She said we could have one. We did. Obviously, they were delicious. We proceeded on to playing video games, which meant I watched Laura kick some shit out Mario brothers. Now having an older brother myself, I knew my role and excelled: be Lugi, die quickly, be awed as Mario found secret passages and took all the coins. Laura was killing it, but we needed more cookies. After while and many “just one more”s, I was feeling kinda sick. Laura said “how many cookies do you think we had?”. “12. I had 12.” I had counted. This meant she had had 12 as well. We knew immediately that we needed damage control. We re-stacked the remaining cookies to maximize area. I felt so guilty. We ate 2 dozen church cookies! It could not make eye contact with your mom throughout dinner that night. She never said word.
As I read your post, all I could think about was, while I’ve made cookies many times, I’ve never made so many that missing 2 dozen could be “hidden”. I get the feeling that, unlike me, she would have never made “a box of cookies”.
Keep writing!!

So glad to know that you are reading and enjoying. Laura was awesome at that game and I am sure exceeded her screen time based on today’s recommendations! I can’t believe you all ate that many cookies and could still sit down to eat dinner. Yes, I remember my mom making chocolate chip cookies and covering every countertop and even kitchen table with dozens.

I get your point with the Steelers mug. I don’t really follow sports, but my boyfriend is a huge White Sox fan, so, I own White Sox tshirts and claim them as my team if and when anyone asks, lol. Also, my family are mostly Cubs fans and it’s just fun to irritate them, lol! 🙂